


Sapphire Eyes and the Three Angels

by PervyPenguin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Artisans Gabriel and Michael and Lucifer, Community: deancasbigbang, DeanCas MiniBang, Illustrated, Knight Dean, M/M, Minor Character Death, Scholar Sam, Temporary Character Death, now with art, orphan Cas, possibly implied incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 17:05:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2396105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PervyPenguin/pseuds/PervyPenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel was born to the king and queen of his country. When tragedy strikes, will Castiel be able to overcome his guardian's plans to rule in his stead forever? </p><p>DCMB 2014 offering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sapphire Eyes and the Three Angels

**Author's Note:**

> My offering for the DCMB 2014! A fairy tale AU that's slightly anachronistic (I just couldn't get Dean's 'voice' right with time proper speech). The implied incest is only very vaguely there, but I'd rather warn for it than catch people off guard. It's my first long fic and rather rushed, story-wise, but I'm pretty proud of it, still.
> 
> Art by the lovely velocitym1 on Livejournal, who graciously stepped up to the plate when my original artist had to drop out.
> 
> velocitym1.livejournal.com

Once upon a time, there lived a young king and queen who were very deeply in love. They were kind and just rulers, much loved throughout the land. They were indeed quite happy with life. However, they longed desperately for a child. Not an heir, though some advisers liked to harp on about legacies and lineages, but a child to love and care for, to play with and tend to. After years of waiting, and nearly out of hope, the queen became pregnant.

The couple was ecstatic, as were the people of the kingdom. Though no longer very young, the queen bore her pregnancy well, with few of the troubles that plague expecting women. Her husband doted on her; gifts for mother and child came pouring in from every direction, from commoners and nobility alike. And after months of dreaming of their baby, the king and queen welcomed Prince Castiel, a beautiful boy with dazzling sapphire eyes, to the world.

For two years, all was well. There was peace throughout the kingdom and its neighbors. Castiel was spoiled as an infant prince is. He spent long hours with his mother: in the garden as she did her embroidery, in the queen's parlor as she received visiting family. The king kept him close as he wrote to advisers or allies. Castiel grew into a happy chubby toddler, surrounded by family and loving friends.

Alas, the good fortune could not continue forever. Near Castiel's third birthday, his mother fell ill. Healers came from all across the land, but none could cure her fever. Just two months before the prince turned three, his mother died. The king was heartbroken and fell into a deep depression, leaving the care of his son to the servants. Young Castiel was confused and scared and would wail for hours for his mama and his papa.

There was no birthday celebration for the young prince that year. The king had taken to drowning his woes in alcohol, all but forgetting his young son in his grief. He let matters of state fall by the wayside. His anguish at losing his lady love stripped him of the righteousness he once had. Four months after the queen's death, the king was thrown from his horse and broke his neck.

For the second time in his short life, the young prince was dressed in dark, hot, scratchy clothes and attended a royal funeral. The entire affair was more noise, more confusion, and many more people than the poor young prince was used to. He cried throughout the entire ceremony, while the kingdom mourned their twice-lost king.

But matters of state do not put themselves on hold for mourning, and the kingdom needed a leader. Prince Castiel was obviously far too young, so the king's advisers chose to appoint a regent until he turned 25. Several suggestions were made and a vote taken. Raphael Caelum, Duke of Cielo, widely thought to be the wisest man on the council of advisers, was named Regent only one week after the king's funeral.

Duke Raphael was indeed wise and knowledgeable about many things. He held a dark secret however. The duke was hungry for power. He used dark magic and sorcery to appear even more intelligent than he was, gaining the power he so deeply craved. He developed a dangerous amount of pride once named Regent. Every day, Raphael would stand in his chambers and demand praise from a small magic mirror he kept hidden.

“Magic mirror in my hand, who is wisest in the land?” He would ask.

And the mirror would invariably reply, “Your gifts are many, Lord Raphael. You are the wisest, and know it well.”

 

* * *

 

**20 Years Later**

Castiel grew up, largely ignored by the prideful and controlling duke. The castle servants were kind but kept their distance, leaving the young prince very lonely. As a consequence, Castiel spent most of his free time in either the library or gardens, reading fantastic tales of lives much more interesting than his own.

On a lovely spring day, Castiel selected a lather large tome of poetry to take to his favorite garden. A small creek marked the border of castle lands and a comfortable bench sat under a large shady tree. Snowdrops, daffodils and forsythia bloomed in a soft explosion of yellow and white. Bees and butterflies drifted lazily among the flowers, lending a quiet serenity to the area.

Birdsongs filled the air and though he had the book open, Castiel couldn't concentrate on the words for long. Many of the poems spoke of the wondrous nature of love. Without even the affections of his parents, the prince had little experience with love. Growing pensive, he dwelt on the thought that he may never experience such strong emotions toward someone, let alone have them returned in kind.

Dissatisfied with his reading and his growing state of melancholy, Castiel left his book on the bench and crossed the border-creek into the forest. The young prince had explored the edges of the forest often, but had never ventured very far into it. He clambered over a fallen log, and went deeper into the darkened forest. He took no particular path, content with merely wander along in the shaded wood. He let the sound of birds singing, the sight or deer bounding through the trees, the scent of rich dirt and spicy wildflowers wash over him, soothe his soul.

He soon lost track of time. Unfortunately, having lived a sheltered life in the castle had not left the young prince with a great sense of direction. When he felt refreshed and decided to start the journey home, he realized he was rather lost. Castiel tried not to panic as what little light the canopy of leaves let through faded.

Twenty minutes of wandering around, this time with a purpose, lead him to what looked like a well worn trail. He began following it in the direction he hoped would lead him home. After perhaps half an hour, he heard deep male laughter and horses. The prince quickly ducked behind a tree and hid.

Two riders on tall black horses approached his hiding spot. Both men seemed tall, although that may have been an effect of sitting on rather humongous horses. The taller looked to be quite young, around the same age as Castiel. He had a kind face and a fairly standard haircut, chestnut waves falling to the collar of his shirt and curling around his ears.

The other man looked older. He had a face that looked carved from granite, beautiful but stern. His hair was cut in an odd style, very short and cropped close to his head. He had freckles spattered across his face and astonishingly pink lips.

As the pair of travelers drew closer, Castiel backed further away from the path. As he stepped backwards, he tripped over a fallen tree and gave a sharp cry of alarm. Both strangers reined in their horses. The shorter, older one quickly dismounted as Castiel tried to regain his footing.

"Are you alright?" The stranger called as he strode towards the tree blocking the young prince from view. "We're not going to hurt you or anything. My name is Sir Dean. Uh, Winchester, if that means anything to you. And the giant on the horse is my brother, Sam."

Prince Castiel groaned and stood, brushing dirt and leaves from his person. "I'm fine. Nothing hurts save my pride."

The knight laughed. "I'm sure we've all suffered such a fall. Now come; out of the shadows with you. I don't like not being able to see those I speak to. Or are you a specter?"

Castiel smiled. "If I were a specter, I rather doubt I would have fallen over a tree." He stepped out of the shadows towards the path and the two brothers.

His breath caught in his throat. From a distance, both men had been handsome. This close, however, the young prince could see Sir Dean was more than merely attractive. The amount of freckles splashed across his cheeks and nose was truly obscene, and a mischievous light in his fantastically green eyes. Castiel had thought him good looking before, but from close up the man was undeniably beautiful.

The moment stretched on into an uncomfortable silence, Castiel and Dean merely staring at each other, until Sam cleared his throat. Both the prince and the knight jump slightly; Castiel felt his face warm and looks away. Dean merely smiled.

"So, Sir Specter, do you have a name?"

"Oh, of course. Castiel. My name is Castiel. Um, j-just Castiel, I'm not a knight or anything..."

Both Sam and Dean chuckled at Castiel's rambling. The knight scratched the scruff of his beard. "Castiel... That's a bit of a mouthful, isn't it? D'you mind if I call you Cas?"

The young prince tilted his head to the side. "That would be acceptable. May I call you Dean and Sam, then? Or do you prefer titles and honorifics?"

"Dude that's fine. You don't get out much, do you?"

Cas shook his head. "No. Most of my time is spent in the palace, and I rarely speak to many people. I fear that is why I'm lost. I ventured farther into the woods than I have in the past." He cleared his throat. "Could you perhaps give me directional assistance?"

Dean smiled widely. "We'll do you one better and escort you. We're heading that way anyways; it's not even a detour." He nods his head in the direction he and Sam traveled.

A frustrated groan left Castiel, as he realized he had been moving in the opposite direction. "I wasn't even going the right way! Not five miles from home and I might have died of stupidity!"

For the first time Sam spoke. "If it makes you feel better, there's a village only a little ways away. I don't think you'd have died.”

Castiel made a face at the young man. “Somehow, Sam, that is not terribly comforting.”

A bark of laughter burst out of Dean. Both Sam and Cas turned to glare at him as he struggled to rein in his mirth. “Sorry, sorry. I just... The looks on both your faces! If looks could kill man!” Dean cleared his throat. “Can't we just agree the situation sucks?”

Castiel nodded, grateful for Dean's cool head. Sam however pulled a mulish expression and muttered, “Jerk.”

His brother grinned. “Love you too, baby brother. Now can we all play nice? It's only an hour or so's walk to the palace if we keep to the trail. Although we may need to split up, if you still want to stop by the glass-makers' place, Sam.”

Intrigued, and admittedly, spurred on by the prospect of meeting more people, Cas said, “I don't mind going with you. If it's no imposition, I mean. I'm in no great hurry to get back.”

“Are you sure, Cas? I mean, when Sammy here gets to chatting with the Angels, they can be yammering on for hours. Won't someone miss you at the castle?”

Cas smiled, a hint of sadness lurking in his eyes. “No, I should be fine. Even if I don't make it back for dinner, I can just find something in the kitchens. They never notice when I'm gone.”

The brothers shared a look, sympathy rising for their new friend. Sam said, “I'm sure they'd be fine with it. They're good guys. A little weird, but decent people.”

“'A little weird' doesn't begin to describe it, Sam. Gabe's always got some sweet in his mouth and won't quit with the pranks. Michael is all broody and silent. I swear he never talks. And Luke's just friggin' psycho.”

“Dean!”

“Oh, relax, Sam. If we didn't scare Cas off, the Angels won't.”

Sam huffed grumpily. “Well, we need to get going. Sunset's not for a while, but I do want to spend some time with the guys.”

Dean nodded and reached his hand out for Cas. “C'mon Cas, you can ride Impala with me. No sense walking when we've got my baby here.”

The young prince glanced rather nervously at the very large black horse. “I, uh... I'm not terribly comfortable on horses.”

“You never learned to ride?”

“Of course I did! I just... never got terribly comfortable doing so. And it's been quite a while since I rode a horse at all, Dean.”

Sam chuckled. “I think you hurt his feelings, Dean.”

Dean ignored his brother and focused on Cas. “Cas, I didn't mean it like that. But you don't have to worry. Impala's a good horse. She won't buck or try to throw us. I promise. I've worked with this horse for 5 years, since she was a foal. She looks big, but she's taken care of me just like I take care of her.”

He lead the horse closer to Cas, slowly and smoothly, no hesitation. Dean motioned for Cas to reach out his hand. The young prince was more wary, hesitating slightly as he approached the mare. When he was close enough, Impala stretched her neck and planted her nose firmly in Castiel's open palm. A few seconds passed, and the tenseness slowly eased from Castiel's shoulders and he scratched Impala's nose. Laughter bubbled up in him as the horse flicked out her tongue and licked the underside of his arm. Dean smiled at the pair of them.

“So whaddya say, Cas? You wanna ride with me?”

Cas turned to look at Dean straight on, saying sternly. “If you can promise there will be no antics and we shall ride at a sedate pace, I'll ride with you.”

His warning lost some impact, however, when Impala decided to lick the side of his face, causing him to let loose a shriek of surprise. Sam burst out laughing. Dean managed to hold in his laughter at first, but when Castiel turned to glare at Sam, Impala repeated her mischief on the back of Cas' head, leaving his hair mussed and standing on end. Sam's amusement redoubled, to the point he had tears in his eyes. Unable to hold it in any longer, Dean doubled over, great gasps of laughter leaving him.

When Dean looked at Castiel again, he saw his back. His shoulders shook, small gasping noises escaping him, his head bent down. Worried that he'd hurt his new friend, Dean stepped closer to Cas, and reached a hand out to place on his shoulder. “Cas? Cas, we weren't making fun of you, I promise. You just looked so shocked, and then Impala did it again, and your hair got stuck up all over the place, and it was just a funny sight and... please, Cas, say something.”

Castiel shook his head rather violently and Dean's heart sank. He glared at Sam, slashing a hand across his throat to tell Sam to stop laughing. He tried to think of something - anything – to say to make Castiel feel better. Before he could come up with just the right phrase, Cas turned to face him. His face was indeed streaked with tears, but the wide grin proved they weren't sorrow-tinged. He took a moment to compose himself, wiping his eyes and taking a few long deep breaths.

“I'm sorry, Dean, I didn't mean to concern you. It's just... It's been so long since something like that has happened to me and it feels like I had years worth of laughter to get out. I really couldn't control myself.”

Dean lightly shoved his shoulder. “I thought we'd offended you man! I was worried you were upset. Next time, try making some laughter type noises, huh?”

Cas smiled hugely. “I shall do my best. Now.” He turned to face the horse. “If you've finished being a troublemaker, I believe Dean and I will need your cooperation. It's been some time since I rode a horse and you had best be on good behavior. Shall we?”

Dean nodded, a smile teasing the corners of his lips at the fact that Cas spoke to his baby much the same way he did. He helped Cas mount before pulling himself up. A shared look with Sam and they were off.

 

* * *

 

 

The so-called “Angels” lived in an oversized cottage, small enough to sit cozily in the forest clearing, but clearly not a home for those of modest means. The two story dwelling was tastefully painted a soft cream color, with dark green shutters and trim. The door, however, was a riot of color; blues, greens, reds, and purples exploded across the entrance. Castiel had the feeling it was put in place by someone not involved in the choice of the main color scheme.

Dean and Sam led their horses to a small paddock and dismounted. Sam opened the gate as Dean helped Cas off Impala and both horses walked straight in and started grazing peacefully. Cas followed the brothers to the door, and upon closer inspection, he saw the colors weren't randomly splashed onto the door. They were painstakingly intricate, rather like a mosaic, although there was no discernible pattern or overall picture to them. Sam pulled a cord, and a faint jingling was heard.

Cas worried his lip as they waited for the door to be answered. “Are you sure they won't mind that you brought me? They've never met me, surely it's not normal to invite perfect strangers to other people's homes.”

Dean laughed. “Well, maybe not. But The Angels are hardly normal.”

“Why do you call them 'the angels'? Is it another nickname?”

“Nah, it's what they call themselves. They're brothers, see, and their last name is Angeles. The three of 'em have been calling themselves 'The Angels' since they were kids. And now that they work outta this place, they call it 'The Angels' Workshop'.” Dean explained.

Cas cocked his head to one side. “What kind of-”

“Dean-o! Sam-a-lam! What brings you to our neck of the woods? And who's this? Have you been hiding a Winchester from us?”

Castiel turned toward the voice and was almost surprised such a loud voice could come from such a relatively small man. He leaned on the door jam, honey brown hair falling into his eyes. He held a candy stick between his teeth and gave the three travelers a once over.

“How could we hide a Winchester from you, Gabe? You stick your nose in everywhere. Nah, this is Castiel. He was lost in the woods and we're gonna take him back home after this.” Dean said.

“Lost in the woods, eh? Good thing you didn't get gobbled up by the big bad wolf,” Gabe snickered. Cas and Dean both rolled their eyes, although the comment got a small chuckle out of Sam. With nothing more said, Gabe waved the group inside.

The cottage was large and had an open layout. A staircase led to a second story, presumably where the bedchambers were, as the first floor was just one large room. To the left there was a kitchen area, the fireplace burning low as something slowly cooked in a large pot over it. The right side of the room seemed divided in two. Papers, quills, and ink spread haphazardly across a large desk and trailed onto the floor. Where the papers ended, neat stacks of leather were piled high. An abundance of cloth and thread adorned the walls around a rather worn but comfortable looking chair, where a man currently sat, threading two pieces of leather together.

Gabe spun on his heel to look at his guests. “So. Who's gonna make the introductions?”

Sam immediately took up the chore, introducing Cas to the two men first. He then told Cas that Gabriel was a writer, hence the mess of parchment and ink. The man in the chair was introduced as Michael, a leather worker slash tailor who primarily made leather work and basic clothing for the local villages. He didn't speak, merely nodded his head in acknowledgment at Cas and the Winchesters and continued on with his work.

“So, where's Luke?” Sam asked. “I had something I wanted to talk to you guys about.”

Some emotion flashed quickly across Gabriel's face, but nearly as soon as Castiel noticed, a grin was pasted on again. Luke was apparently in his own workshop, a separate shed in the back of the house. Sam followed Gabe out the back door, leaving Dean and Cas alone with the silent Michael.

They stood in the middle of the room rather awkwardly for a moment, completely ignored by the leather worker. Cas looked around the house, taking in more detail, as Dean scratched the back of his neck and glanced at his shoes. The moment stretched from merely awkward to uncomfortably tense until a log cracked and split in the fireplace, making Dean and Cas both jump.

“Oh, for heaven's sake, get comfortable! Sit down in here, sit down outside, hang like bats from the rafters, but this tension is distracting.” Michael burst out. Dean and Cas shared a look and quickly filed out the front door. They found a bench in the garden off the left side of the house and made themselves comfortable.

“You know, you never really explained how you got lost in the forest. I mean, what were you even doing there? If you live in in the palace, you must work there; shouldn't you have some royal ass to kiss up to or clean up after?” Dean asked.

“Oh. Well, no actually. I don't work in the castle, I'm the ward of a duke there.” Castiel blushed. He didn't think he was an ass, nor did he make much of a mess for the servants to tend to, but he hardly wanted to taint Dean's opinion of him. “Other than my studies, I have very little to do. I was reading in one of the gardens and grew bored. I thought a walk might help. Getting lost was certainly not in my plan. Although I do view meeting you and your brother as a good thing.”

Dean nodded along with the explanation and chuckled, “Aw, we view meeting you as a good thing too. Well, I do. Can't really speak for Sammy, but I'm sure he feels the same way.” He scratched mindlessly at the scruff on his neck. “So, you're a ward too, huh? Me an' Sammy were. We were lucky. Sir Robert took real good care of us, treated us like his own kids. Sammy turned 18 not too long ago, so technically neither of us are anybody's problem but our own anymore, but Bobby's kinda like a second father to us now, said we could consider his place home as long as we wanted.”

“You are lucky. Unfortunately, my wardship is more complicated. Even though I'm 23, I'm still under the duke's guardianship for another year and some months.” Cas sighed. “If you don't mind me asking, what happened to your family?”

“Hell, might as well tell you. Our mom died in a fire when I was six and Sam was two. Dad was a blacksmith and the fire in the forge was left roaring after they were done for the day. Since we lived right next door.... I got Sammy out, and Dad tried to get Mom out but she didn't make it. We never did figure out if it was Dad or one of his apprentices who left the fire going. Dad... well, whether he blamed himself or just couldn't deal with losing his mom... He got reckless and drank a lot more and... Someone found him in some filthy ditch near our house one night when he didn't come home. We were just lucky Bobby would take me and Sammy in. We weren't really old enough to be trained yet, but he'd known Dad back in the day and said he owed it to him.”

Dean purposely looked away from Castiel, but he could see tears threatening to spill from Dean's forest green eyes. He closed his hand over Dean's on the bench. “I'm so sorry for your loss, Dean. It may have been long ago, but it still aches, I know. I lost my parents when I was very young as well. I'm very glad you had someone like Sir Robert to take you in.”

Dean let out a watery laugh. “Well. Now that we've been all sappy. Shall we talk of something more pleasant?”

Cas stared at his companion for a moment. “Dean. I...” He blushed. “I would very much like to kiss you. Is that- would that be acceptable?”

Dean didn't speak, merely nodded. They leaned close together and closed their eyes, only to bump noses. They both laughed a little shyly at that, soft smiles clinging to their lips. Dean put his hand on the side of Cas' face, and he leaned into it. Cas gazed into Dean's eyes, so close he could almost count the eyelashes, as Dean slowly moved in again.

It was a chaste kiss, merely lips against lips. When Cas pulled away and smiled, Dean grinned back and pulled him in for a longer, deeper kiss. Cas wound his arms around Dean's neck and pressed himself as close as their position on the bench would allow. Dean had both hands on the sides of Cas' face as they licked into each other’s mouths.

Slowly, the tempest of emotion inside them calmed. They leaned together, foreheads touching, Dean's right thumb rubbing gently over Cas' cheek. The prince kept his eye closed for a long moment, before laughing softly and saying, “Wow.”

Dean gave him a roguish grin and wiggled his eyebrows. “That good, eh?”

“Seeing as I've nothing to compare it to, it was the kingdom's best, I'm sure.” Cas laughed.

Dean blinked. “You- you mean that was your first kiss? Ever?”

Cas bit his lip and nodded. “Was it satisfactory? Did I do everything alright?”

In response the knight pulled him in for another deep kiss. When they were both panting and squirming, he released Castiel and said, “It was great. Seriously. And I'm honored you gave me your first kiss,” before dropping a sweet kiss on Cas' nose. The pair of them sat there in silence, wrapped around each other for quite some time, lazily watching butterflies flit through the garden.

As the sun sank, throwing reds and purples into the late afternoon sky, Sam finally made an appearance. “You guys ready to go? We're going to need to hurry if we want to get Cas back before it's fully dark out.”

Reluctantly, the young men rose from the bench and said farewell to Gabriel and Michael. Luke had still not shown his face (“He's in the middle of a big project and had a major breakthrough” Sam explained), so with no further ado, the trio fetched their horses, mounted, and were off.

The mood on the ride to the palace was rather somber. Sam chattered on about his visit with the Angels, but Dean and Cas paid him little attention. Perhaps one kiss was not enough to base a relationship on, but both were saddened at the thought of it being their only meeting.

True to the Winchesters' word, the palace was nearby and right off the path. Had Castiel gone the correct way, he'd have been home quickly, but he couldn't regret getting lost. Meeting the brothers had been the most fun and excitement he'd had in a long time. As they neared the gates of the castle, Dean slowed Impala and murmured into Cas' ear, “I know you have to stay here, with the duke and everything. But maybe you could “get lost” in the forest again sometime? Head over to The Angels workshop, I stop in there with same two or three times a week. If I'm not here when you come back, you could leave a letter for me?”

The young prince's heart beat sped up, until he could hear it pounding in his ears. He throat seemed incredibly dry and he could only nod at Dean's suggestion. Before he dismounted, he craned his neck and gave Dean one last thorough kiss. “Goodbye, Dean.”

“We'll see each other again, Cas. I promise.”

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel smiled as he slipped past the gate and began the walk to the castle doors. Fading into the distance, he heard Dean shout, “Eyes back in your head, Sammy!”  
Deep in the palace, in a private chamber used only by the duke, Raphael was frantically going over the wording of the proclamation which had declared him Regent so many years ago. In the 20 years since he was instated, he'd grown used to wielding the power of a king, even if he hadn't been named such. He was loathe to give it up and was frantically searching for some way to keep his influence as Castiel neared his next birthday. Thus far, however, he'd had no luck.

With a heavy sigh, Raphael decided to put an end to the search for the night. He'd found only one way of extending his rule, for Castiel to die before the end of his regency, and the brat was healthy as a horse. He stretched his neck, cracking it first to the left, then to the right, and rose to lock the door. This camber may have been private, but Raphael was nothing if not prudent. He withdrew his magic mirror from a secret drawer in his desk and asked, “Mirror, mirror, in my hand, who is wisest in the land?”

But for the first time in so very many years, the mirror had a new response.

“You are wise, most glorious lord, but wiser still- Castiel, your ward.”

Time seemed to stand still for the duke. He literally could not believe what he had just heard. He repeated himself, “Mirror, mirror, in my hand, who is wisest in the land?”

The mirror's reply had not changed. “You are wise, most glorious lord, but wiser still- Castiel, your ward.”

Raphael very nearly threw the mirror against the wall. He slammed it into its drawer and banged it shut. In his anger, he let out a scream and flung things off his desk. Papers tore, quills went flying, ink bottles were smashed and stained the rug. When everything that could break was broken, the duke was left to sit in the middle of the mess. In the midst of the chaos he'd created, Raphael began to laugh madly.

'Well,' he thought, 'I know what I must to do retain my seat now.'

With violence on his mind, he called for servants to clean the destroyed room.

The week following his 'misadventure', Cas was easily distracted by thoughts of Dean. While reading in the library, he found he'd been staring at the same page for nearly an hour without taking in any of it. During dinner, he wondered what Dean liked to eat, whether he had a sweet tooth, if he preferred beer or wine or something else altogether.

Unfortunately, it had rained for most of the week, so the young prince hadn't been able to escape to the forest yet. At times, Castiel worried that Dean had only been being polite when he said they would meet again. The way his eyes had lingered on Cas, the way his voice had rumbled into his ear, the way his heart had beat so fast while they kissed... those memories convinced him it had been more than de riguer for the knight.

Finally, the sun broke through the clouds, banishing the last of the rain. As Cas awoke to the brightness of the morning sun, he decided he'd make his was back to the Angels Workshop that very day. He packed a small rucksack with a light meal and a book, nothing unusual for those days he spent reading in the gardens. Unlike any time before, however, one of the castle hunters made to follow him.

“Is there something I can help you with, Bela? I was just preparing to go read in the far garden.” He asked politely.

Bela smiled enigmatically. “The duke asked us to keep a close eye on you. Apparently there have been vagabonds in the area, and he worries for your safety. Especially with you coming into your inheritance so soon.”

Castiel sighed deeply. He could hardly sneak into the forest to visit Dean if he had Bela following him. Maybe he could read in the garden until she got bored and decided to go back to the castle. He did after all tend to spend long hours there when wrapped up in a good story. He nodded to Bela and made his way to his favorite bench.

For over an hour, they sat there. Castiel did his best to read, but the thought that Dean could be just on the other side of the trees and not know Cas was there, trying to get to him made it hard to become absorbed. With renewed determination, he stood abruptly, rearranging his things in the rucksack.

“I think I'd like to go for a walk.” He said more calmly than he felt. Hopefully, Bela would leave him alone to his walk. Bela merely nodded and stood, clearly meaning to follow him no matter what. Suppressing another sigh, Cas began walking towards the forest. Maybe... maybe he could lose her in the forest. No, the woman was an excellent tracker, one of the reasons the duke had hired her as a hunter to begin with. They spent around ten minutes wandering aimlessly in the woods. The silence between them, which had once been amiable at least, turned tense and oppressive.

“Is there something wrong, Bela?” Castiel asked. “I know we're not we'll acquainted, but if something is amiss, I'll do my best to remedy it.”

Bela began to shake her head no, but seemed to think better of it. She seemed disturbed. “The duke... He didn't really want the hunters and guards to watch over you for your safety. He...”

“Yes?”

Bela cleared her throat and looked away from the prince. “He asked some of the hunters to kill you. He wants to keep the throne for himself. We drew lots and had a... a schedule of sorts, so one of us would be close to you in case of an opening.”

Castiel was shocked. True, he and the duke had never got on well, but to think Raphael would orchestrate his murder? It was beyond comprehension. “He- the duke- you're going to kill me?”

Bela gave a rather apathetic shrug. “Those are my orders.”

The prince leaned against a tree and swallowed around the lump in his throat. Now he'd never see Dean again. And worse, Dean wouldn't know why. He may wait for weeks to hear from Cas, wonder for months at his absence. And since Cas hadn't told the truth about his identity, Dean may never know what happened, might think Castiel had merely played him. He knew he couldn't outrun the hunter though.

“Will you make it quick? I don't mean to sound like a coward, but I rather dislike pain and wouldn't want to die whimpering like a child.” He said dully.

Bela's eyes snapped back to the prince. He seemed fully resigned to death. He had his eyes closed and she could kill him before he knew what had happened. She moved towards him and murmured, “Don't open your eyes, I'll make it as quick as I can.”

Castiel drew in a sharp breath but merely nodded. Bela drew her weapon, a wickedly sharp long dagger, and lifted her arm toward the prince's throat. Her hand wavered, holding the blade inches from his neck for long moments. She dropped her weapon.

“Run.” She whispered.

Castiel's eyes flew open. “What?”

She snapped. “I said run, you foolish prince! I can't do it. I've done many things, perhaps evil things, for money, but I can't do this. Give me your bag, I'll tear it and stain it with blood from the slaughterhouse; use it as proof that I took care of the job. But you can't come back. Raphael will stop at nothing if he finds out you're still alive.”

Castiel nodded mutely, fumbling with the bag. “Thank you, Bela. I hope things work out for you.”

With that, he was off. He ran through the woods, adrenaline pumping through his veins, blood pulsing in his ears. When he came upon the familiar path, he turned and kept running towards the Angels Workshop. When he arrived, the door was open, so he just ran in. There was no fire in the hearth, no Michael in the corner chair. The house was completely empty.

 

* * *

 

 

Weary, he dragged himself upstairs and into the first bedchamber he saw. He flopped onto the bed. The adrenaline he'd felt while running for his life had left him. Cas soon fell into a fitful slumber, plagued by dreams of a menacing forest and demons chasing after him.

“Who the hell are you?” The voice that woke Castiel was loud and angry. The tall blonde man it belonged to didn't look too happy either.

“I'm- I'm Castiel. I was here last week with S-sam and Dean Winchester? Uhm. I met Gabriel and Michael. You-you must be Luke?” Castiel stuttered throughout his answer.

The man at the end of the bed rubbed his temples. “Yeah, I'm Luke. What the hell are you doing in my bed then? Surely you've not come to throw yourself to my lustful desires?”

The prince blushed. “No! No, I uh... I kind of ran away, and was hoping you and your brothers might let me stay here?”

Luke groaned. “Well, you can't sleep in my bed. C'mon, I'll get my brothers and we can talk this out downstairs.”

Five minutes later, the four men sat at the table in the kitchen area, as something merrily bubbled away on the fire. Luke still looked cross. Michael seemed unaffected or perhaps mildly curious. Gabe seemed the most concerned.

“So, you ran away? Dean mentioned you didn't get along with your guardian, but that seems kinda drastic, don't you think?” Gabe asked.

Cas sighed. “That's.... the simplified version. I found out my guardian was going to have me killed. I have a rather large... inheritance that only legally becomes mine on my 25th birthday, which is over a year away. Apparently, he wants it for himself. In order to stay alive, I ran away.”

“And you came here because....?” Luke asked.

“Dean said he came by often; we had planned to meet here anyways. I just thought it was my best bet.”

Michael nodded sagely. “Well, we do have extra room. Not much mind you, but there's a small room upstairs with a bed, we never really use it. If you can find something to help out with around here, I'm sure we'll be able to work things out.”

Luke jumped to his feet, his chair falling behind him with a heavy thud. “What?! You can't just decide that unilaterally. This is my house too!”

Michael merely raised an eyebrow and looked between Luke and Castiel. “Come now, Luke. We can't leave poor Castiel with nowhere to go. And we both know the real reason you don't want him here. You don't want any more compe-”

“THANK YOU, Micheal.” Luke said loudly through gritted teeth. He hung his head. “I can tell when I'm beat. He can stay, but he better stay outta my way.” Luke stormed up the stairs and into his room, slamming the door shut.

“Well. That was entertaining.” Gabe smirked. “You want some stew Cas?”

Castiel, slightly unnerved by Luke's reaction to his staying, nodded at the hospitality. The stew was hot and thick, filled with vegetables and tender pieces of chicken. It was nothing like the food often served at the palace, and he loved it.

Michael continued to look at Cas as he ate, a somewhat confused look on his face. He shook his head and asked, “Are you particularly talented at anything, Castiel?”

Cas slurped at the last of the stew, his manners forgotten in his hunger and relief at not being thrown out. “Well, I'm rather good at art? I had an instructor who said I was adequate with both watercolors and oils, and my sketching was passable. He was a bit of a hard instructor, so that was high praise from him.”

Michael tapped a finger against his lips. “Hmmm... Artistry isn't really something people will pay for around here. Not on its own at least. Perhaps you could illuminate some of Gabriel's manuscripts? And I occasionally have orders from nobles who would appreciate an artistic touch.”

Castiel nodded. “I'll do my best. Is there nothing I could do to assist Luke? Perhaps if I helped him, he'd not object to my presence here so much.”

Michael only shook his head. “No, his objections truly have little to do with you. He's a jeweler, and your services would likely not be helpful to him in any case.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next few days passed quickly for the young prince. Luke was still cold towards him, but no longer openly hostile. Michael was quiet, but had an open demeanor. Gabe seemed to have taken it upon himself to make Castiel feel at home, attempting to make his favorite meals, lending him clothes and the like.

He used parchment Gabriel threw out to brush up on his art skills. He helped tidy the house, quickly learning how to discern between Gabriel's “I'm done with this for now” work and his “this is garbage and should never be seen” work. Only once had Castiel gone to throw away something Gabriel hadn't declared trash. Cas also took to observing whichever brother was cooking at night, so that he could learn and ease that burden as well.

Nearly a week after he arrived, there came a knock at the door. With Luke in his workshop out back, Michael away to one of the larger cities for more supplies, and Gabriel taking one of his “creative naps”, Castiel was left to open the door. As the door swung open, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

“Dean.”

The knight, who'd been turned away from the door to argue with his brother over something, spun on his heel at the sound of Cas' voice. “Cas?”

Castiel smiled and launched himself at Dean, the two embracing in the doorway for a long moment. Cas finally pulled away from the hug and said, “Come in, I'm afraid it's just at the moment. Luke is in his workshop and Gabriel is asleep.”

“Michael?” Dean asked.

“Away getting supplies.”

As the two men stood in the middle of the room, simply basking in each other’s presence for the first time in weeks, Sam quietly excused himself to go to the workshop out back. Cas lead Dean to the small couch across from the kitchen. For a few minutes, the two sat silently.

“I missed you.” Cas said it first.

“I missed you too. Where you waiting here long? I've asked about you every time we stop but you hadn't been by yet.” A hint of insecurity crept into Dean's voice.

“I couldn't get away. The rain meant it would look odd if I went out to read, and I would have no other reason to leave the palace.” Cas said. “I actually.... Well, I've been living here the past few days.”

Dean sat bolt upright at that. “Living here?! Why? Did something happen? Are you ok?”

Cas smiled and pulled Dean back into a comfortable position. “I'm fine, Dean. I ran away from home. You see, the duke...”

Castiel told him the whole story, more than he'd told the 'Angels'. He still left out that his inheritance was the entire kingdom. Since he wasn't going to be ruling it, he figured it would be okay to omit the fact he'd once been the crown prince. Dean was still and quiet throughout the whole tale.

“Are you sure you're okay with this, Cas? I mean, you shouldn't let him keep your inheritance. It's all you have left of your parents.”

“No, Dean. I have the knowledge that my parents loved me, that they wanted what was best for me. The inheritance is not worth the danger it could put me in.” Cas said.

Dean seemed unsure. “If you're sure. But if you ever want to reclaim it, I'll help you take that bastard down.”

Cas nodded and leaned into Dean. “I appreciate the thought, Dean. I'm sure you'd be a proper knight in shining armor if I asked it of you.”

Dean laughed. “Well, my armor is a bit rusty, but I'd suit up for you” He pressed a soft kiss against Cas' lips.

The pair spent a few hours there, quietly talking about nothing of importance. They traded soft kisses and ridiculous jokes. Cas explained his fascination with bees. Dean gave a rather overwrought speech about pie being the greatest dessert ever invented. Cas teased him about his fierce devotion to the pastry until Dean blushed and just kissed Cas breathless.

Gabriel finally woke up only minutes before Michael walked through the door. Luke and Sam walked in from the back soon after, leading Michael to arch an eyebrow and an odd expression to flash across Gabe's face. The five of them sat down at the table to a dinner of roast chicken and vegetables. Dinner was unusually raucous with Dean and Sam there. Luke and Gabe seemed to be competing for “loudest Angel” and Dean seemed just as confused as Cas.

After dinner, Dean and Sam had to leave. They hadn't planned on staying long at all initially, but could hardly make the stop a quick one with Cas there. They still needed to get to the city that night; they had business to tend to early the next morning. Dean and Cas were reluctant to part, but after a long embrace, several “just one more” kisses, and shouts from Sam to hurry up, the Winchesters were on their way.

 

* * *

 

 

The days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months. Sam and Dean visited as often as possible, occasionally turning day trips into overnight trips just to spend more time at The Angel Workshop. Castiel settled into a routine, adding art to Gabriel's finer manuscripts or detailing to Michael's creations. He took much of the cooking duties on himself as well. His birthday passed with small fanfare, his friends giving him small tokens as gifts. Even Luke grumbled, “Happy birthday” and plopped a small wrapped box in his lap.

The night of his birthday, Dean asked him to go for a walk outside. The moon was full and hung low in the sky, bright stars dotting the dark night sky. Dean led Cas to the bench in the garden where they first kissed. They sat there for a while, the silence at first friendly and comfortable. However, Dean soon started fidgeting.

“Dean?” Cas asked softly.

Dean cleared his throat. “I, uh. I want to ask you something. I know we haven't really talked about it, and you don't have to say yes, just think about it, but...” He trailed off.

“Yes, Dean?”

“Cas. I love you. And I was hoping you would do me the great honor of marrying me?” Dean reached into his pocket and extracted a ring box, one of Luke's. The ring was beautiful, tasteful and understated. There were no stones, only a beautiful etching around the band of feathers. “I got Luke to make it for me. If you don't like it, I'll get you something else, although if that's the case we probably shouldn't tell Luke. And that's if you say yes, and like I said, you don't have to , you can think about it for as long as you need, I just wanted to ask and make sure you knew how I felt and-”

Cas threw himself into Deans arms, kissing him silent. The kiss went on and on, Cas gripping Dean tight, and Dean dropped the ring box to hold Cas with both arms.

“So uh... is that a yes?” Dean asked breathlessly.

“Yes, Dean! I'd love to marry you.” Cas smiled fully, his eyes crinkling in delight.

 

* * *

 

 

Meanwhile, all was not well at the castle. Raphael had become increasingly more and more power mad. He abused the servants, ignored the advisers, and generally made a mess of things. The council of advisers were beginning to speak about removing him as ruler. They felt the duke had been acting strangely since the death of his ward, surely greatly affected by the Prince's untimely demise. Rumors of his imminent removal made their way to Raphael's ears and, for the first time in months and needing reassurance, he reached for his magic mirror.

“Mirror, mirror in my hand, who is wisest in the land?”

The mirror replied, “Not far from here, where angels dwell, is the wisest, young Castiel.”

Once more, shock spread through the duke's body. He had order the whelp killed! The hunter had brought back-

A bag. A simple bag, not unlike the dozens of others in the castle. And now the hunter was gone, having left shortly after her fatal assignment. Anger took over Raphael. Sure this is the reason his reign is falling apart! If he were truly the wisest in the land, no one could take his throne from him. Once more, an evil plot hatched itself in the duke's mind.

It took time, nearly a month, for the duke to find the place “where angels dwell”, but the Angeles brother were hardly circumspect. Three famous brothers with a ridiculous nickname were hardly hard to find. He cloaked himself in shadow and made ventured past the cottage that served as a workshop. Sure enough, there was Castiel, acting as though he wasn't supposed to be dead months ago.

Raphael came to the realization that if he was to be sure Castiel was dead, he'd have to do the deed himself. He hastened back to the castle, where he locked himself in his library. Consulting his books of dark magic, he soon found a spell to poison Castiel with. He brewed the potion and dipped beautiful apples into the deadly concoction. Leaving them to the side, he returned to his grimoire.

He needed a disguise of some sort. Castiel would surely run if he knew the duke had found him. The best bet would be to change himself into someone completely different, and someone who would be believably selling apples. Perhaps... A young woman, beautiful and innocent. A dark smoke spread across the room as he fixed the new potion. It was thick and oily, with a sickly sweet smell to it. Raphael chugged it down and was soon wracked with pain as his body twisted and crumpled into a new, smaller shape.

The change complete, the disguised duke plucked up the basket of apples and made his way to the forest.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel was home alone, a rather rare occurrence. Normally at least one of the brothers stayed home, but all three had business to tend to, so Cas was left behind. He didn't mind, all three men would be gone for the night and Dean was coming for a special dinner, just the two of them. He'd been working for a few hours, making sure dinner was the best he could, when a knock came at the door. Believing it to Dean arriving early, he opened the door.

“Dean, you're ear-” He snapped his jaw shut. “Oh. I'm sorry, I was expecting someone else. Can I help you?”

“Oh, thank you kind sir. You see, I'm supposed to be selling these apples from my family's orchard, only I haven't been able to sell them all. I'm not supposed to go home until I do, and it's ever so far from here and it's almost dark. Would you be good enough to buy them from me?” The young woman said. She seemed flustered.

Cas took a look at the beautiful apples she had to offer. 'Just right for an apple pie. And that's Dean's favorite', he thought. With a broad smile, he said, “Of course, miss. I have just the recipe to use those in.”

He fished out some coins from his purse and traded them for the apples. “Oh, thank you sir! Enjoy the apples!”

The young woman took off before he could reply. She'd seemed a little strange then, running as though her life depended on it, with a manic grin on her face. Cas paid her no mind however, and returned to his dinner preparations.

Half and hour later, he had a pie ready for the oven. Before he put it in the oven, he decided to taste the leftover filling. He grabbed a fork and speared a few of the slightly-cooked, sweet and tart apple slices, and bite into them with relish. It was delicious, tangy and crisp, sweet with a bite of cinnamon.

Cas began to feel dizzy. Something was wrong. He tried to run for the door but his legs weren't cooperating with him. He stumbled and fell, blackness encroaching on his mind. His last thought was, 'Dean...'

Dean rode up to the cottage on Impala, whistling happily. His fiancée and he had the place to themselves for the night. Much as loved his brother and enjoyed the Angels, time alone with his love was long overdue. He slid off his horse and put her in the corral, then practically skipped to the door.

He knocked loudly. “Cas? Cas, baby, I'm here.”

No response. He shrugged. Since moving in with the Angels, Cas had taken to exploring the woods. Or he may be out picking a few last minute herbs or vegetables for dinner. Dean wasn't terribly concerned, he trusted Cas to take care of himself. He tried the door and sure, enough it was unlocked. He let himself in.

Everything seemed normal. The fire was crackling, and whatever was cooking smelled delicious. Dean walked towards the kitchen and only then noticed the figure laying still on the floor. His heart sank.

“Cas? Cas!” He dropped to his knees and picked up Castiel, fumbling blindly to find a pulse, hear a breath, anything. “Please, Cas. Please be okay.”

Cas didn't stir. His form was growing cold. Tears pooled in Dean's eyes.

“Cas...” His voice broke. “You have to be okay. I can't- I can't lose you. I love you too much. I need you. Please, Cas, just wake up.”

Still no response. Dean swore he could feel his heart breaking. The pain ripped through him as he rocked his lover's body against him. His sorrow poured forth in tears and he let out a scream of pain. Long minutes passed, Dean unmoving and grieving. When he felt himself coming a little more under his own control, he leaned forward.

“I love you, Cas.” He whispered. He pressed his lips against Cas', but they were wrong, cold and unresponsive. He fell back to lean against the kitchen wall, holding lightly onto Cas. His body felt heavy, sluggish with sadness.

“...Dean?” A harsh whisper.

“Cas?!”

“Dean, what happened?” Cas asked.

“Oh god Cas.” Dean pulled him into a crushing hug, fresh tears running down his cheeks. “Don't you ever, ever do that again, you hear me?”

Cas agreed quickly. “Of course not, Dean. But... What did I do?”

“You were.... I came in and you were just lying on the floor there, not moving, not breathing, nothing. I thought you were dead.”

“Dean, I... I think I was. I saw my mother. And my father. It was so bright, Dean. But I couldn't go with them. I haven't had enough time with you yet, so I turned back.” Cas said quietly.

Dean stared at him for a long moment. Then he smiled ruefully and said, “I'm just glad you're back now. Do you know what happened? I mean, you didn't just suddenly fall over nearly-dead, did you?”

Cas shook his head. “No. No, I was making a pie. I taste tested the apple filling and... The apples! The young woman who sold them to me was acting strangely. Do you think she may have tainted them?”

Dean shrugged. “I'm not sure. It's possible. I didn't see any young women on the way here. I did see a strange sight though. The Regent was walking along the path. Normally he's got an entourage twenty strong.”

Cas froze. “The Regent? As in Duke Raphael?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Weird, huh?”

Cas let out a long low breath. “Dean... I haven't been entirely truthful.”

“And what's that got to do with the Regent? You're not saying you're his ward are you?”

Cas nodded reluctantly.

“So, you're the prince. And your inheritance was...”

“The kingdom. Or at least the ruling thereof. And if Raphael was on the road, I'm willing to bet he had something to do with the apples.”

“Wait a minute. You were gonna let that bastard keep your kingdom?!”

“If you remember, Dean, he was trying to kill me. And I had no real attachment to the kingdom. If he'd merely asked me to abdicate, I likely would have.” Castiel said.

“Well, there's no way we're letting a murderer sit on the throne. You have to go back, Cas.” Dean swallowed thickly. “Even if... even if that means we can't get married.”

“No, Dean,” Cas said firmly. “I'll go back. I'll even take over and rule the kingdom. But I'm going to marry you no matter what.” He leaned forward and kissed Dean. “You're stuck with me, Sir Winchester.”

Dean laughed. “Well, I suppose we should eat and rest up, come up with a plan for confronting him.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean and Cas spent the next day talking and waiting for the Angels to come home. They only touched briefly on Cas' return to the castle and their plan, deciding to wait for more mind to put together. When the three brothers arrived, they explained the situation as briefly as they could.

“Ha!” Michael let out a short sharp laugh. “I knew you looked familiar! I've had to deliver work for the duke at the palace, I must have seen you there.”

“We shouldn't have too much of a problem getting your throne back, Castiel,” Luke said. “Since the prince “died” he's been become rather unpopular. I suspect, if you simply showed up and accused him of his crimes in front of the council, they'd trip over themselves to give you the crown.”

Gabriel and Michael agreed. Raphael had been making enemies in the months since Cas left the castle, and public opinion was still high for Cas' family.

Dean and Castiel made plans to leave in the morning and make there move on the duke.

Early in the morning, while the moon was still high, Cas wandered to the kitchen. Despite the assurances of everyone in the house, his nerves were getting the best of him.

“Can't sleep?” Michael asked from his chair. Cas shook his head. Michael moved to sit beside him. “Well, how about an amusing little tale to help you sleep? It may even help you understand some of the tension around here.

“Once upon a time, there lived a moose. He was a very handsome and intelligent moose, and all manner of forest creature adored him. However, he was best loved by a chirpy little sparrow and a grumbly old goat. The moose had feelings for both of these animals, but could never seem to choose just one. This made the sparrow and goat very frustrated of course. And the great bear that lived with the sparrow and goat became very irritated, because if the three of them would just talk the whole thing could be resolved. But the moose, goat and sparrow, kind and good, and smart as they may be, were also stupid. So it came to pass that the bear decided to knock some sense into the three creatures and sat on them until the sorted things out. The end.”

Cas stared, gobsmacked, at Michael. Then he started laughing hysterically. He bent over, clutching his sides and tears streamed down his face.

Michael merely looked smug. “I see you understood the underlying truth in my little fable, then?”

Cas nodded, gasping for breath. “Sam's in love with Luke and Gabe. And both are in love with him. And you think they could work, the three of them. But they just keep fighting over Sam.”

Michael nodded.

“Well, if I manage to sleep tonight, and have strange dreams about woodland creatures, I know who to blame. Thank you, Michael.” Cas slowly made his way back upstairs, still chuckling as he closed the door.

The next day, Dean and Castiel made their way to the castle. Luckily, it was the day the Regent would receive petitioners, so they had no trouble getting in. Castiel was disguised slightly, a hat pulled low over his eyes and a scarf wrapped around his face, but there was no real need. They were merely told to wait in line with the other villagers. When it came time for Dean and Cas to make their request, Cas pulled off his outer clothing. Before he could open his mouth to put forth the charges against Raphael, though, the duke jumped to his feet.

“You!” He screamed. “You're supposed to be dead! I made sure of it myself! How are you still alive?!”

The council saw that Castiel was indeed their “deceased” prince. The duke's words condemned him easily, with Castiel only corroborating what he had let slip himself. He was stripped of the title of Regent and exiled from the land. The advisers welcomed Castiel back and, after a brief conference, decided to waive the final year of the regency and instate him as king right away.

Castiel's coronation was quickly arranged and doubled as a wedding ceremony. Sam was in attendance, as were the Angels and Sir Robert.

When the festivities were finally over, Cas turned to his new husband and said, “I'm so glad I got lost in the forest.”

Dean grinned and kissed his husband breathless.

The End.

 

 


End file.
